Friend
by RamblingRae
Summary: Sometimes you just need a friend. High School AU. USUK friendship. Trigger warnings apply.


**_[AN:_**

 ** _Just a little thing that came to me one night_**

 ** _Of course, I don't own Hetalia or it's characters, but everyone should know that xD_**

 ** _If I did, these two would have already confessed their feelings for each other-]_**

* * *

 **Friend**

It was no secret to Alfred Jones that student body president Arthur Kirkland used to cut himself.

Alfred could see it from the faded lines on his arms, on his wrists. They were upward slashes, not the kind that one would make if they wanted to kill themselves, but the kind that they made to survive. To feel something.

He first noticed Arthur's scars one day when he was doing a presentation about prom for the school. It was hot that day, and they were all out on the football field. For once, Arthur had his sleeves rolled up, just to his elbows, to battle the warm weather. His arms moved around as he talked, which was what brought Alfred's attention to them, and he just couldn't believe it. The president had always seemed so centered; together, but really, there was a sort of storm within him that no one knew about.

It was from that point on, that Alfred was determined to watch over him.

Not to stalk him, no, not at all. He just wanted to make sure that he was okay, that he was safe. He constantly looked toward Arthur's wrists, just to check if all was well. It probably wasn't any of his business, but he didn't care.

This continued on for months and months, and Arthur seemed to be alright. And then, one day, Alfred lost him in the crowd. Panicked, he searched around for him, only to find him in a empty corridor, just sitting in the corner. Was he crying?

There came a sort of pitiful sound from that direction. He was either crying or was close. This was the calm before the storm. Quietly heading over, Alfred's footsteps echoed in the empty hall, and the sound made Arthur look up. His sleeves were pulled up again. Breathing out quietly, Alfred sat down next to the other, looking toward him with those ever so kind eyes of his. "Are you okay?"

And it was those three words that made Arthur lose it. It was clear that no one ever asked him that. That there was a clear absence of caring in his life, and that he needed more of it. He cried in Alfred's arms, not caring that he barely knew the other. He clearly needed this. Alfred just breathed out softly and pulled the Brit closer, letting him press his wet face into his chest, his hand delicately stroking the smaller's back.

This was the storm. This was whenever Arthur broke, whenever he just couldn't handle everything- and Alfred was there for every second of it. This was the moment whenever he realized; no- everything was not okay, and that life was just plain horrible to him, and that it just wasn't fair. He lamented on how his pet cat had died; the only creature that had seemed to care about his existence had been run over by some asshole in a pick-up truck. He'd always been neglected. He had no friends, his family pretended that he didn't exist.

"I just have no one; and I'm frightened. I'm so, so frightened."

His voice was quivering, quiet, plagued by post-cry breaths.

"There's no need to be scared." Alfred breathed out, causing surprised emerald hues to look at him finally, fully, for what seemed like the first time in this moment. Their gazes met. "I'll be here. I'll be here for you. I'll be the one you need, the one who listens to you when you're sad, who you talk to when you need a listening ear, or the shoulder you cry on when you need one." And it looked like he truly, sincerely, and wholly intended to be that. To be there for Arthur.

This feeling was strange. The feeling of someone caring about him, of someone wanting him to be okay.

Alfred continued. "I've been looking out for you for so long- and I've wanted to be your friend for so much longer. So please, let me do that, Arthur." And then he gently grabbed both of Arthur's hands, sliding up the fabric that covered his wrists, only to reveal that there were indeed fresh cuts. "And please, please, don't do this again."

And then came Arthur's shaky breath, one of those that one would release after they held their breath for a short amount of time.

"Alright."

And it was then that Arthur knew that everything would be okay.


End file.
